


Thanks for the repairs

by HolmesHarleyWatson



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Cigarettes, Drinking, M/M, Oral Sex, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-18 00:28:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19965733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolmesHarleyWatson/pseuds/HolmesHarleyWatson
Summary: Rocket comes to the rescue when the Eclector breaks down in deep space and Yondu rescues him right back....





	Thanks for the repairs

**Authors Note: Hi Everybody! So, this is totally a commissioned one-shot. Not my couple at all, as you all mostly know I am the self-proclaimed Queen of Roquill. I am writing this purely for a friend and I could probably never do more than a one-shot between these two. That said; this is a Rocket/Yondu pairing, and I hope for the sake of my friend, I can do it justice. That said, this is an AU timeline like most everything else I write and create. Its centered around an idea that I had that if Yondu had survived, he probably would have become a Guardian of the Galaxy and left the Ravager life behind; taking a few of his trusted companions with him over to the good side, like Kraglin and a few other OC Ravagers that imma make up, lol. Here goes almost nothing…..**

“Dammit all to blue-blazin hell,” Kraglin grumbled, throwing the Eclector into idle orbit as several warning lights flashed before his eyes and an alarm blared shrilly, warning him that the shields were offline, and their thrusters were shot.

“Ryder to Kraglin,” Ryder shouted into the comm over the alarms blaring on his end in the engine room.

“Go ahead Ry,” Kraglin answered as he climbed out of the borrowed Captains chair, swallowing nervously as he came face to face with the Captain himself.

“I need to shut down the Warp drive and recalibrate the engines down here, it’s a mess Krag, I got a leak in just about half of the dilithium chambers and I think there’s some kinda flux in the shield harmonics, that is I had read a flux in them before they went off-line,” Ryder responded.

“Can’t I git a decent nights sleep on this rig without one of you Krutaxin fools crashin’ her ta smithereens? Pete sake, the Hell imma gonna do with you lot? Git out the way Kraggles, lemme see wha’ the hells goin on.” Yondu growled, bleary-eyed and cantankerous as always when he was woken up halfway through a four-hour sleep after twelve hours at the helm.

“I think we better put in a call to Rocket Sir,” Kraglin said softly, bracing himself for his Captains further ire.

“Yeah, I’ll git him on the long-range comm. You git down ta that engine room and help Ryder; take Finn and Gunn witcha and keep ‘em the hell outta mah hair,” He replied, punching in a distress signal and inputting manual overrides to slow the progress of the engines cascade failure.

“Jesus ya big blue bastard, whaddaya calling me for this late at night?” Rocket asked as his image blinked up on the live feed.

“Hey there Rocket. The Eclector is on her last flargin leg here, we’re adrift and orbiting these coordinates. Think you can lend a hand?” Yondu asked, sending their coordinates to the Milano.

“Yeah, yeah. Hold your orloni’s, I’ll be there within the hour; and Yondu?” Rocket asked, eyes glittering with some unspoken mischief.

“Yeah?” He replied, wondering what the hell the raccoonoid had up his sleeve.

“You owe me a bottle of that Centaurian Brandy your so fond of for my troubles here.” Rocket replied with a smirk.

“You gotcher self a deal,” Yondu replied with a smile of his own, disconnecting the comm and sighing as he waited like a sitting duck in open space.

Forty minutes later the jump point nearby opened to reveal the Milano coasting through in true Guardian style as Rocket hailed Yondu.

“You’re cleared ta dock in the third pylon,” Yondu replied, locking onto the Milano as Rocket steered the ship smoothly into place.

Yondu donned his duster and made his way to the docking bay, passing by the crew quarters of his men and pausing as he heard an Orloni fight in full swing, Buck, Scale, and Verge cheering their fighters on. He shook his head and smiled; you could take the man out of the Ravagers, but never the Ravager out of the man. The docking bay at this hour was only manned by Satyr, who stood at attention the moment Yondu came into view, dropping the holopad he had been reading. Yondu waved him at ease and released the docking bay doors to reveal the 4’5” of snarky sarcastic asshole that was Rocket Raccoon.

“Hey Rocket!” Yondu exclaimed, exchanging the Ravager salute with him before welcoming him aboard.

“Hey Yondu, you can close the hatch for now. Everybody else is asleep on board the Milano at this hour, it’s always me that takes the graveyard,” Rocket replied, slipping his toolkit crossbody over his shoulder as Yondu shook his head.

“So Quill has no clue that he’s docked in the Eclector right now?” Yondu asked with a snicker.

“Nope,” Rocket replied with a chuckle and a shrug, following Yondu onto the turbolift that would take them to the engine room.

“How’s he been?” Yondu asked, trying to sound nonchalant; but Rocket could hear the underlying concern in his voice for his unintended Son.

“Quill’s been good, we got a little R & R time from the Nova Corps and were thinking of heading to Lacari Prime. Between you and me, all that nutrient rich soil and sunshine oughta be good for Groot, little shit’s been giving me a hard time about staying in his pot at night to absorb the nutrient mixture I replicated for him.” Rocket replied, the two would-be Fathers shaking their heads.

“Hey Rocket,” Kraglin greeted, sending him a wave of his dilithium covered hand. Rocket let out a low whistle as he took in the chaos of the engine room around them.

“Think you bit off more then ya can chew?” Yondu asked him.

“You kidding me? Geeze Yondu sit down before you hurt yourself,” Rocket replied, making Kraglin cough to cover a laugh as he unslung the toolkit from his shoulder and got to work.

“Well here’s your biggest issue, your power couplings that lead to the dilithium chambers and your warp matrix are fried, when’s the last time she’s been serviced properly?” Rocket asked, removing the spent couplings and fishing out new ones.

“Whenever you were aboard last,” Kraglin replied, making Yondu flinch at his honesty.

“Uh, that was over six months ago geniuses, no wonder she’s fried, whaddaya trying to do? Run her into the ground?” Rocket asked shaking his head as he brushed burnt dilithium chips out of the power converter and replaced the coolant for the warp coils while he was at it.

“Ships maintenance ain’t never been my strong suit if I’m being honest here,” Yondu said truthfully, knowing that he was in for one hell of a lecture if Rocket had anything to say about it.

“Well ya better make it your strong suit before you’re sucked out of the airlock with a warp core breach,” Rocket replied, reattaching the paneling Kraglin had removed and moving on to the warp containment field itself.

“Maybe if one of us was trained up proper, we could keep her running smoother,” Kraglin said with a shrug, making Rocket sigh.

“Look, as bad as you lot are at ship maintenance, that’s as bad as I am at teaching it, so don’t look at me,” Rocket said, punching in the command codes to recalibrate the warp core and giving a slick grin as the engine began to come back online as well as the shield harmonics.

“I’ll never know how you do it Rocket,” Yondu said with an admirative smile.

“Yeah, yeah. Save your flattery, lead the way to the booze,” He replied, stashing his tools away and following Yondu back to the turbolift.

“Would ya mind staying for a drink? Aside from the bottle your leaving with that is,” Yondu asked suddenly, eager for Rocket’s company. He wasn’t sure why, but they had somehow bonded with one another starting with their brief confinement and then continuing as Rocket helped him rebuild the Eclector.

“Yeah, sounds good. I guess she can stay docked until morning and that’ll give you a chance to have breakfast with Quill,” Rocket reasoned with a snicker.

“Looking forward to the look on his face?” Yondu asked knowingly.

“Oh you have no idea,” Rocket said with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he followed Yondu off the turbolift and to his quarters, which took up most of level 10, section D.

“Make yerself at home while I git outta this leather and shit and pour yerself a drink. I’ll be back in a minute,” Yondu told him, shrugging out of his duster and hanging it on the back of one of the bar stools in his living room.

“Mind if I have a smoke?” Rocket asked, gesturing to the pack of cigarettes laying on the bar.

“I said make yerself at home, that means what’s mine is yers. You gotten our asses outta plenty of jams by now that yer more like family than anything else,” Yondu said as he went off to his bedroom to change. Rocket eagerly put a cigarette to his lips and lit it, inhaling deeply with relish as the smoke filled his lungs. He hadn’t had a smoke in years and the nicotine was pure bliss as he sucked it down and exhaled slowly, feeling truly relaxed for the first time in a while.

“So, where’d you learn to fix stuff like that anyways?” Yondu asked, coming back to the living room in his cotton pajamas and popping up two gin glasses; filling them with Centaurian brandy. Rocket downed half of the glass in one go, his mind flashing back briefly to the Labs on Half-world before outwardly shrugging.

“Ya pick shit up here and there when you’ve traveled around the way I have. The rest I learned by studying engineering on my own and trial and error for the most part.” Rocket said nonchalantly, but Yondu knew it was more than that and wondered if Rocket was ever going to fully trust anybody to completely divulge what he had been through.

“Yeah, I been flying rigs since I was about seven er eight, after Stakar freed me. He’s the one that taught me how ta fly and scavenge and wheel and deal and make my own way in the Universe. I always hate sayin it, but I owe a great deal ta Stakar,” Yondu replied, pouring them a second round and scooting into a bar stool beside Rocket, lighting a cigarette of his own and relaxing as he inhaled.

“Well I guess I owe a great deal to Quill too. Ya know Yondu, he turned out alright.” Rocket replied, tapping ash from his cigarette and taking another sip of brandy. The stuff was strong and well-aged and it didn’t take too much of it to put Rocket in a mellow mood.

“He turned out better’n me, and that’s really all a parent wants for their youngins, isn’t it?” Yondu asked, pouring another two fingers worth of booze in each of their glasses.

“Groot was always better than me…… always.” Rocket sniffed quietly, his eyes misted over with unshed pain as he recalled very distant memories that were so far away, but stabbed him like a knife to the gut; point blank and lethal.

“Rocket, Groot did what he knew was right. What’s done is done and there ain’t no goin’ back on it. You just gotta love him now; even though he’s the same and not the same, even though he don’t carry the same memories that y’all shared, and you’re doin’ right by him. Don’t never forget that.” Yondu said somberly.

“He’s the one who helped me, ya know? I mean, there we were in the Labs on Half-world; and he could’ve escaped by himself, he didn’t have to worry about me, ya know? He could’ve left me behind, but he saw me strapped to that table bleeding and in pain and he pulled the whole goddamn table from the floor and…” Rocket sobbed roughly; the kind of deep and agonizing cry that spoke of mortal injury, and Yondu reached for him then to comfort him.

“Rocket…… some one of these days, you gotta let that Laboratory go, you know that, right? You’re a new man now and you have been for a long time. Not an animal, but a man. Not a monster, but a man. I don’t see an animal or a monster or a freak when I look at you; an’ neither does Kraglin or Quill or Drax or any one of us what’s fought beside you. We all see you for what you really are Rocket. You understand me?” Yondu said softly, moving to stroke his hand against Rockets cheek. Rocket gasped at the contact and without realizing or meaning to, he leaned into the touch as well.

“I’m a fuckin’ freak,” Rocket replied quietly, not meeting Yondu’s eyes.

“Why would ya say that?” Yondu asked with a frown, not ceasing in his soft touches to Rocket’s head, his cheek, down his neck and shoulder.

“Because I like……… I like when you touch me. I like how it feels,” Rocket replied breathily, swallowing deeply and looking ashamed as he flattened his ears and his tail visibly drooped.

“What’s wrong with liking to be touched? We all like being touched and touching other beings, there ain’t nothing wrong with that. I like touching you right now too, does that make me a freak?” Yondu asked with a smile.

“No, it doesn’t…….but you should probably stop…. I’m uh, getting a bit…” Rocket moaned deeply when Yondu’s hand moved down to cup his burgeoning erection through his suit.

“Do you want me to stop? Are you sure about that?” Yondu purred into Rockets ear, giving him an out and nearly melting when Rocket’s lips collided with his own and his clever hands fisted into the front of his cotton shirt. Rocket attacked Yondu’s lips with fervor in his exploration, his claws shredding the front of Yondu’s shirt into ribbons as he delved his hands longingly to knead the blue flesh beneath. Rockets breath hitched when he began to feel the raised textured wheel of a scar beneath his fingers and drew back slightly for fear that he had overstepped himself. Yondu drew back too, but only to study the pensive look on Rockets face and offer him some reassurance in the depths of his ruby-colored eyes.

“You think you’re the only one with scars?” He asked softly, feeling Rocket shudder as he slowly unzipped his orange and black suit.

Rockets lips crashed back to his as his suit fell away along with the remnants of Yondu’s shirt as they stumbled their way across the room; Yondu heading in the direction of his bedroom more by memory than any actual visual prowess at this point. He was lost to the feel of Rockets fur; slightly coarse on the outer tips, but downy soft beneath. The feel of Rockets velvety soft kid-leather paw pads tipped with sensuously sharp claws driving him mad as they both punished and soothed in turns when he ran them over the sensitive flesh of Yondu’s back, shoulders, and sides. They toppled messily onto the bed in the semi-darkness, finding each other again by the feel of hands and tongue and teeth alone. Yondu had rolled Rocket onto his back easily, mouthing and nipping his way down his abs before fully enveloping his thick grey cock deeply into his throat. Rocket bucked his hips helplessly, clawing tears into Yondu’s sheets and fisting the ribbons of satin ardently in the throes of his passion. Yondu felt Rocket reaching for him blindly in the dark, but he grasped his wrist and placed it back at his side, his mouth continuing to alternate between Rockets cock and the delicious seem at his balls, just barely teasing over his tight ring of muscle and driving the raccoonoid wild with want.

“Yon….Yondu, fuck! Please…” Rocket whined, begging for more as Yondu fumbled momentarily for lube in the dark. He shocked Rocket to the core when he thrust the bottle into his hands in the dark, pulling Rocket on top of him and rocking his hips forward in the dark, thrusting his purpling erection desperately into the soft fur of Rockets stomach; groaning at the silky feeling that engulfed him.

Rocket palmed the lubricant onto his cock and began teasing Yondu’s entrance, the tightness he was met with giving him pause until Yondu yanked him forward; sinking his entire length into him at once and hissing and moaning with the pleasure pain.

“Fuck…” Rocket breathed again, gripping Yondu’s biceps tightly, claws kneading azure flesh.

Yondu yanked Rockets hips forward once more until he was sank into him as far as he could go, giving him the signal to drop his hesitation and just fuck him until he was raw. Rocket needed no further sign to draw out and slam back in, their balls colliding with wet slaps as he began drilling Yondu’s ass to the bed for all it was worth. Yondu moaned and cried out as Rockets claws broke skin when he got a hold of his shoulders to pound even deeper, his thick girth pressing and sliding along his prostate gland and making him see white. Yondu’s fin lit up without warning, bathing the couple in a lascivious red glow as Rocket began stroking Yondu’s dick in time with his rough thrusting, half-animalistic cries filling the air while Rocket continued slamming forward balls deep and unrelenting. Rocket leaned forward slightly with his thrusts, adding swipes of his tongue to the head of Yondu’s cock as he fucked into his hand greedily. Yondu was arching off the bed desperately, his fingers digging into Rocket’s coat, fisting fur and skin and letting loose a roar as he came without warning, cum coating his chest and Rockets hand in thick ribbons of bioluminescent purple. Rocket arched his back then, nearly bending over Yondu as he jutted forward in quick succession until he exploded within him, sinking his claws deep as he came. Rocket collapsed momentarily, both of them breathing hard and heavily as Rocket slid out of him and moved away, trying to safely find the edge of the bed in his post-fuck haze.

“Where the hell you goin’ Rocket?” Yondu asked hoarsely, his voice ragged after so much pleasurable vocalization.

“Back to the Milan—

Yondu pulled him into a rough and passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around him tightly and softly tugging his tail for good measure, sending tingles up his spine.

“Just stay here you crazy asshole. Ain’t nobody tellin’ you ta fuck and run,” Yondu said as Rocket paused only for a moment before nuzzling into Yondu’s warm embrace as sleep claimed them both.

The following morning after breakfast on the Eclector, Yondu handed Rocket his toolkit, which was marginally heavier with the added bottle of Centaurian brandy as promised and agreed upon. Yondu gave Rocket a brief kiss and embraced him before he made his way back to the Milano; words were rarely needed between the two of them when drink was not involved, there was more of an unspoken understanding, even after the previous night. When Rocket had slipped into his quarters back on the Milano, he opened his toolkit to stash away his prize when a note fluttered to the floor. Rocket retrieved it with a frown and heaved an emotional sigh when he read the words in Yondu’s messy scrawl, hoping that they would cross paths with the Eclector again soon.

_Rocket,_

_Thanks for fixing everything that was broken. You and me were the toughest repairs out of it all._

_Don’t be a stranger, I had a good time._

_Yondu-_


End file.
